


Our Separation is Mere Illusion

by JhanaMay



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Thor: The Dark World, repentant Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-10 00:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14726789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JhanaMay/pseuds/JhanaMay
Summary: Thor can't remember a time before Loki was his brother. As children, they were inseparable. As teenagers, they fought side by side. And as young men, they forged a connection that has spanned centuries. Even in the aftermath of Loki's betrayal, Thor wants nothing more than to be with him. Though Loki is imprisoned, they steal moments, borrow time, and wait for the chance to be together again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from an amazing poem by Stéphane Noir called [separation is just an illusion](https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1106086/separation-is-just-an-illusion/).
> 
> I've never really been into Thor/Loki, but I guess Infinity War gave me feels.
> 
> Thanks to destimushi for betaing and generally never shutting up about Thorki. You can blame her for this.

“She is exquisite.”

Thor pauses with a handful of grapes halfway to his mouth and looks from the closed door to his brother’s astral projection. More than anyone, he knows Loki can’t be standing in his bedchamber. After his ill-fated attempt to take over Midgard, Odin All-father ordered him locked in the dungeon underneath the palace.

The grapes pop with crisp sweetness, and Thor chews with careful precision before answering. Better to not reveal how hungry he has been for Loki’s company. “Who?”

Loki rolls his eyes and settles into the heavy gilded chair across from where Thor sits by the fireplace. The chair squeaks, proof of the strength of Loki’s magical abilities. Though many can project, few possess the innate strength to create solid forms. Loki and their mother, Frigga, are the only two on Asgard.

“Your Midgardian whore. You were less than discreet when you snuck her into the palace tonight.” Loki snags a cube of cheese from the gleaming gold tray on the table. He studies it for a moment before popping it into his mouth.

“First, she isn’t my whore. She needs our help,” Thor says, slapping Loki’s wrist when he reaches for another cube. The food won’t sustain him, and Thor is famished. Let him eat in his cell. “And I did not sneak her into the palace.”

“You brought her through the front door and introduced her to Father?”

Thor scowls. “Mother is aware she is here.” They both know that’s not the same, but Thor is too tired for Loki’s games. He pauses and raises one eyebrow. “How do you know of her? Your magic should only allow you to project into this room.”

Frigga oversaw the protections that dampen Loki’s magic herself. He’s as good as powerless, and it was only through Thor’s begging that she granted them this slight concession. Odin's wrath would be monstrous if he knew.

Loki’s smile is sly. “As always, I am not without specific skills. If I do not tell you, you can not betray me to Mother when the time comes.”

“In truth, I would rather not know.”

“If you are not fucking the Midgardian,” Loki says, narrowing his eyes, “why is she here? Is your Dr. Foster not enough?”

Seeing to the heart of this visit, Thor laughs and mimics Loki’s earlier sly smile. “Are you jealous? Do you wish me to cast her aside though she needs our protection?”

“I care not where you stick your cock,” Loki snaps. He looks away, into the heart of the fire, but the tension around his eyes gives him away.

Thor watches him for a long moment, drinks in the sight of him as though it can fill the deep well of emptiness in his chest. Finally, he heaves a heavy sigh and slips out of his chair to kneel in front of Loki’s. He grasps Loki’s thighs, soft leather as real under his palms as the heat from the blaze beside them, and waits until pale blue eyes turn to meet his.

“You have nothing to be jealous of,” Thor says, leaning in to press his forehead to Loki’s chest. “You know where my heart lies.”

He waits—breathing in the deep bergamot scent that marks Loki’s magic—until the tension bleeds away and hands come up to tangle in his hair. Loki winds his fingers through the strands and tips Thor’s head back until their faces are scant inches apart. They could kiss with only a subtle movement, and Thor licks his lips.

“I said I was not—”

“Her presence here is a favor for the Avengers,” Thor cuts in, raising one hand to press three fingers to Loki’s mouth. “She possesses the ability to absorb and store magical energy, and that makes her a target for very dangerous people on Midgard. I thought with your vast knowledge of sorcery, you and Mother could figure out a way to help her.”

Loki’s lips, as soft and warm as Thor remembers, brush Thor’s fingers when he responds. “I do not need an explanation.”

“No,” Thor says with a slight shake of his head. The tug at his scalp from where Loki’s hands still grip his hair sends a shock of heat to his groin. “You need a reminder. It does not matter where in the Nine Realms I travel, I will always return home to you. Though Father’s anger boils, in time it will pass. You will redeem yourself, and we will be free to be together again. This is only temporary.”

“You are too trusting, Brother,” Loki responds, his eyes sad. He presses a kiss to Thor’s fingertips. “After the things I have done, the many betrayals and ways I hurt you, it will be millennia before I am forgiven. If I were not so selfish, I would stop these visits and let you seek solace where you would.”

“This is the only solace I need.” Thor leans in and captures Loki’s lips with his own.

Though he knows this apparition isn’t his brother, it feels real. The wet heat of his mouth when Loki opens under his onslaught, the rough moan when Thor winds his hands around Loki’s back to tug him forward on the chair, and the scent of his arousal when his legs part around Thor’s chest. It may not be real, but it has sustained Thor for the last seven months. These stolen moments have to be enough.

Thor runs his hands under Loki’s tunic and skates across hard muscle. Though he may lack the bulk Thor has built on the battlefield, Loki possesses more strength than only his magic. Given endless time—time they’d thought they had and squandered—Thor spent hours tracing the long, slender lines of Loki’s body. It is the thing he has missed most since his own pride and selfishness destroyed their world.

Loki arches into him, pulling Thor back to the present. What is past cannot be undone, but Loki is still in his arms. They haven’t truly lost each other. Loki breaks their kiss long enough to push Thor back on his haunches, then slides out of the chair. He wraps his legs around Thor’s waist and presses into him, his cock hard against Thor’s stomach as he dives back into the kiss.

“The bed—” Thor bites off a groan as Loki reaches between them to pull at the laces of his breeches. The staccato bursts of pressure against his cock are maddening, and Thor cants his hips into Loki’s touch.

“Too far away,” Loki pants against his lips. He scoots backward off Thor’s lap. Thor looks to where Loki’s clever hands have made short work of the fastenings on his trousers, and when he looks back up, Loki is gloriously naked, stretched out on the thick rug. Firelight dances over his pale skin and his eyes sparkle with mischief. “You are wearing too many clothes, Brother,” he says, reaching to stroke his own hard, weeping cock.

“You cheat, _Brother_. I am not a sorcerer who can bend the world to his will.” Thor bats his hand away with a soft growl. “But I can bend you to my will. This is mine, and I haven’t given you leave to touch.”

Loki pillows his head on his hands and pouts. “By all means, great and powerful Thor,” he snarks. “Odin’s son and master of Mjolnir, weapon of the gods, your humble servant wonders if you are planning to do something other than look before Valhalla takes us both.”

Thor closes his hand around Loki’s cock, slick with dripping pre-come, and Loki arches his back to shove into his grasp. “Hasn’t your silver tongue gotten you into enough trouble?” Thor asks, trailing his fingers up the length and squeezing the head until Loki squirms beneath him. A thick drop wells from the tip and slides down the length, pooling against Thor’s fingers. Thor raises one brow and brings his hand to his mouth to lick the drop away, never looking away from Loki’s crystal gaze.

“Your clothes,” Loki reminds again, the words coming out in a strangled gasp. “You have teased enough. You said you intended to remind me of my place in your heart. I believe your cock inside me serves as a suitable reminder.”

“You have always been demanding, Loki. It is perhaps your greatest failing,” Thor says, stripping his tunic over his head and peeling leather down his legs before kicking the breeches away. He’s glad he removed his armor before breaking his fast because waiting one more moment to sink into Loki’s heat might kill him.

“Even worse than my penchant for betrayal?” Loki murmurs, reaching for him.

Thor allows Loki to draw him forward, covering Loki’s body until they stretch out together in the glow of the fire. It has been weeks since they’ve had a moment to steal and the ache in his balls from self-imposed abstinence is maddening. Being cradled between Loki’s trembling thighs is the best homecoming.

“We will not speak of betrayal tonight,” Thor returns, his heart stinging with the pain of everything they’ve lost, every harrowing, hurtful thing between them. He presses the barest of kisses to Loki’s forehead and then each eyelid and smiles when Loki’s lashes flutter open. “Tonight is only this moment. No past and no future. Merely us in each other’s arms, as we always have been meant.”

Loki blinks away moisture from the corners of his eyes and returns Thor’s smile. He slides one hand between them and strokes Thor’s cock before guiding it to press against his hole. “Come, my Lord, rightful king of Asgard,” he teases, “show me to whom I belong.”

Thor pulls back though it is the hardest thing he has done in an age. To not just sink home is torture of the worst kind. “I have not prepared you, and I do not wish to do you harm.”

Loki rolls his eyes and shifts his hips forward again. “You know you can not hurt me in this form.”

“Allow me my illusions. After all, I thoroughly enjoy this part.”

“Fine,” Loki allows with a deep sigh. “It is not as if we have more pressing things to accomplish.” He glances toward the fireplace and Thor follows his gaze to where a squat jar of oil sits warming on the stones.

“I suppose magicians have their usefulness,” Thor teases, rising to his knees between Loki’s splayed legs and reaching for the oil. He coats two fingers right off, knowing he doesn’t have the patience on this battlefield to undertake a controlled assault. And Loki might turn him into a rabbit if he doesn’t hurry things along.

Thor presses his fingers to Loki’s hole and bites back a groan when they’re swallowed by his slick, gripping heat. It has been far too long since he has gotten to touch his fill. He slides his fingers in and out a few times, transfixed by the sight of them disappearing into Loki’s body. When Loki shifts his hips impatiently, Thor chuckles and drizzles a thin stream of oil over them before adding a third. He slides his other hand up Loki’s thigh and strokes his cock back to full hardness.

“Thor,” Loki pants, writhing with the pleasure of Thor fucking him with his fingers. “That is enough.”

“I do not believe so,” Thor says, sliding his fist over the head of Loki’s cock at the same time as he twists his fingers inside him. He curls his fingers, dragging them along Loki’s smooth inner walls, and presses down. At first, nothing happens, but when he drags the pads of his fingers a few millimeters more, Loki’s eyes snap shut and his entire body trembles. His legs squeeze convulsively around Thor’s hips.

When Thor pulls his fingers back, Loki opens his eyes, glassy with pleasure, and they shimmer with power. “Please, Thor, now. Do not make me wait. I need you.”

Thor pauses, unable to tear his gaze away from Loki’s face. This is his favorite moment, even better than being inside Loki. This moment, when the trickster is laid bare, slack with pleasure, soft and pliant as Loki never is. That Thor can bring him to this, raze the walls Loki clasps to himself so staunchly, is breathtaking. It is scarcely surprising that Thor’s heart belongs to him.

“Please,” Loki mutters again, reaching for Thor, and this time Thor allows himself to be led. He slips his fingers from inside his lover’s body and drips another few drops of oil onto his aching cock. He strokes it a few times, coating the length in slick, before pressing the head to Loki’s hole.

“Beloved,” Thor murmurs, brushing tangled, sweat-soaked hair away from Loki’s forehead with one hand while guiding himself inside with the other.

Loki lets out a long hiss of breath as Thor sinks the whole length of his cock into him in one slow, steady push. The heat and pressure—the way Loki’s body yields to him but still grips him so strongly—is magnificent. Accepting the truth of Loki’s parentage, his legacy as a frost giant, was all the harder after having experienced this heat. How could someone with such fever at his core be of Jotunheim?

Thor is tempted to just stay buried there, connected so they can’t be torn apart. He studies Loki’s face, the way his mouth goes slack and his lashes flutter when Thor is so deep inside him.

“Are you planning to move?”

Thor squashes a smile. “I am looking at you.”

“Can you not look at me while you fuck me?” Loki tries to cant his hips, but Thor’s weight pins him to the plush carpet and he swears in frustration.

“I want to remember this moment,” Thor returns, dipping his head to claim Loki’s mouth. He deepens the kiss, tongue slipping inside to lap at Loki’s unique flavor. When he pulls away, Loki looks dazed.

“Is it sufficiently memorized now?”

Thor gives him a lopsided grin. “I may need a reminder now and then.”

“If you move now, I will gladly oblige again later.”

Thor doesn’t return Loki’s quip. Instead, he pulls out until only the head of his cock is still within Loki’s body, then slams his hips forward. There is a time for gentleness and a time for passion—and the time for gentleness has passed. He pulls out again, and Loki groans, his eyes widening as he urges Thor on.

Setting a brutal pace, Thor pounds into the welcoming heat of Loki’s body, chasing the pleasure only Loki can give him. He’s been with others—both men and women—but none can match the bliss he finds in Loki’s arms. With each thrust, Loki’s body shifts up the rug until his head tips back against the cool stone floor.

Thor claims his mouth again, then trails biting kisses across his jaw and over his neck. Loki returns the favor, and a moan is torn from Thor’s throat when blunt teeth dig into his shoulder. Hands tangle into his hair again, tugging at the strands with each thrust and casting bursts of starlight and pain behind his eyelids.

Loki guides Thor back up for a punishing kiss with one hand and slides the other between their straining bodies. As soon as his hand touches his cock, though, Thor reaches to push him away. “Your pleasure belongs to me. I would see you come to completion from nothing but my cock filling you, owning you. There is no Asgard or Jotunheim. Nothing stands between us. Only the gratification of our bed.”

“Or the gratification of your bedchamber floor.”

Thor grins. “Or any other place I choose to have you.”

Loki brings his legs up to circle Thor’s hips and wraps his arms around Thor’s shoulders, clinging as if Thor might change his mind and abandon him. Pressed together, Thor can only rock his hips with aborted thrusts that grind his length into Loki even deeper. “Make me come, Brother,” Loki murmurs against the shell of his ear before biting on the lobe.

Whether from the heat of the fire or from the consuming fervor of Loki’s body, Thor’s entire being is on the verge of bursting into flames. He rocks into Loki, aware of the slippery mess being smeared against his abdomen as Loki’s cock is crushed between them. With each thrust, he rolls his hips, grinding his cock into the gripping heat. Loki’s arms and legs tremble and he writhes against Thor, chasing his own pleasure.

Thor skims his lips across Loki’s neck, parting them over the straining cord of muscle as he throws his head back. He bites down, and Loki’s entire body goes taut. What was comfortable pressure around his cock before is now a series of crushing waves as Loki clenches around him.

Abdomen and chest smeared with Loki’s release, Thor rears back, pulling nearly out of Loki’s body before slamming home again. Two more thrusts and blinding, white-hot pleasure races from his aching balls, sizzling across nerve endings from the tips of his fingers and toes to the tightening muscles across his shoulders. He vaguely registers his own roar of pleasure echoing off the stone walls.

Moments later—how many, Thor isn’t sure—he comes back to himself. Loki stretches beside him like a giant cat and gives a crooked grin when he sees Thor watching.

“Almost as good as the real thing,” he says, curling into Thor’s side so his head rests over Thor’s thundering heart.

“Gods willing, it will not be long until I have you in my arms in truth.”

“Gods?” Loki says, pulling back to peer up at him. The tension is gone from around his eyes and his cheeks are rosy with the flush of blood. “You mean Father willing. My crimes deserve punishment, Thor. I will not beg for mercy.”

Thor drags his hand over Loki’s hair, letting it come to rest cupping his neck. “I will beg for you.”

Loki shifts, shaking his head. “You will not. What will happen, will happen, and I will accept it as my due.”

“For now, we have these moments.”

“For now,” Loki concedes. “Until Father realizes Mother helped us.”

Loki stretches, and the drag of skin against Thor’s body stirs his cock again. “We could ensure the memories are well and truly set,” he says, sliding one hand over Loki’s bare back to cup his ass.

“I should go,” Loki responds, regret in his voice. He tips his head to press a kiss to the underside of Thor’s jaw. “Till Ragnarok comes, brother, my heart goes with you.”

“No, you do not need—”

Between one breath and the next, Thor’s arms are empty. Only the cooling mess on his chest gives any truth to Loki having been there. The lingering glow of their time together dissipates like so much fog on the battlefield.

Heart heavy, aching with loneliness, Thor drags himself up from the rug and washes in the basin beside the fire before pulling on his clothes. Tomorrow will be a long day. He will petition Odin to allow Frigga and Loki to help the Midgardian woman, and if it goes well, he may get to see Loki in the flesh, outside his cell. Though it won’t be enough, the thought gives him hope, and Thor goes back to his meal with the ethereal weight of arms holding him. 


	2. Chapter 2

The barrier flares just before it wavers and three members of the elite Einherjar step through. Loki flips to the next page of his book and reads three paragraphs before a guard clears his throat. He closes the book with a soft thud and settles it on the low table next to his chair before looking at them.

Two men stand at the ready with shields up and spears pointed his way as if the weapons will protect them if he decides to forgo Odin’s punishment. He gives them an indolent stare.

“You have been summoned before the king,” the third man says, crossing to where Loki sits. Unlike the two younger guards, he is not afraid. Dagmir, if Loki remembers, fought with them on  Vanaheim .

“Have I?”

“Your quarrel is not with me, Loki,” Dagmir says with a sigh. “Your father summons you, and you can go to him with dignity or we can truss you like a boar for feast and cart you there on our shoulders.”

Loki drops his gaze to the collar and manacles Dagmir holds in front of him. While the spears won’t protect them, the magic emanating from the collar will. Frigga’s work, but unlike the fissures in the magic dampening his cell, the collar is resolute. Once it closes around his neck, he will be powerless.

A shiver races up Loki’s spine.

Dagmir shakes the manacles and raises one eyebrow. “Make your choice.”

With all the grace he can muster, Loki rises from the chair and extends his arms in front of him. If he’s being summoned, Thor must have convinced Odin to help the Midgardian woman. Though he would never admit it, even the slim chance of seeing his brother in the flesh is worth being cut off from his magic, albeit temporarily.

The chains jangle as Dagmir fastens the cuffs around his wrists. The metal has a chill to it, but Loki absorbs it into himself, letting it settle in his bones. Dagmir raises the collar, and for a moment, Loki considers ducking away. His power crackles at his fingertips…

He bows his head to let Dagmir fasten it around his neck.

The sudden absence of his magic, of the crystalline force that has always been a part of him, isn’t cold as he assumed it would be. It isn’t warm either, a raging sun burning out his connection to Jotunheim. It isn’t anything. Just numbness, a gaping hole in his chest, achingly similar to that left by his brother’s absence.  

Loki breathes in deep and reminds himself that if this goes well, he could be face to face with Thor within the hour. He raises his head and fixes Dagmir with a haughty glare. “The All-Father awaits.”

Guards line the walkways, more than Loki can ever remember seeing in the lower dungeons. Furtive glances follow them as they walk, footsteps echoing in the cavernous halls, but many of the older guards stare as they pass. If he wasn’t hobbled, impotence a disease spreading through his limbs, he’d be more concerned whether it’s fear or contempt in their gazes. As it stands, he can’t bring himself to care either way.

At the top of the narrow, winding staircase, Loki misses a step when the guards head right rather than left to the throne room. Past the grand hall, across a courtyard teeming with flowering fruit trees—he and Thor played amongst them as children—and down another short stairway until they stand outside the medical suite.

Loki has always hated coming here, whether for his own injuries or to drag a reluctant Thor—too proud and foolhardy to admit to weakness—for treatment. He never understood why he healed differently, and it raised questions he didn’t want to examine. The cat has definitely escaped that large, Frost Giant-shaped bag.

“In here,” Frigga calls from one of the examining rooms. Dagmir steps forward, leading him through the archway, while the other guards follow with their spears at the ready.      

People crowd the room—including Odin, Frigga, and an assortment of handmaidens—but Loki’s eyes skip over them to find Thor lurking along the opposite wall. He tries not to stare, to not be obvious as he drinks in the sight of his brother. Though they have seen each other, spoken,  _ touched _ , via Loki’s magic, being in the same space is different. Thor’s presence expands to absorb the oxygen in the room until Loki is lightheaded.

“This is not a pardon,” Odin says, drawing Loki’s attention away from Thor.

Loki’s eyes narrow as he turns, and he adopts the insolence he knows irritates the king. “I would never presume your mercy to extend that far.” He flicks a glance at Thor, whose expression is thunderous. So much for begging forgiveness.

“If I were to have my way, you would rot in the dungeons.”

“And there is the fatherly regard you have long gifted me with,” Loki retorts with a soft sound of disgust.

Odin scowls. “I loved you as my son. I will not have your failures placed at my feet.”

Frigga steps between them, one hand pressed to her chest as if their animosity wounds her. “Enough.” She turns to Odin with frustration outlined on her face. “I need his assistance if we are to help her. Now, stop goading each other and release him.”

Dagmir reaches for the manacles, but Odin holds up a hand to stop him. “You will have his expertise, such as it is, but you will not remove his restraints. It is not safe.”

With tension in the set of her shoulders, Frigga steps around the table where the Midgardian woman lies, and gestures at Loki. “There is little he can do here if he cannot access his magic.” She places one hand on Odin’s arm, drawing his scowling gaze away from Loki. His expression softens when their eyes meet. “We will be safe, I assure you.”

“He is not to be tr—”

“The guards will stay and Thor will remain—” Loki could hug her for ensuring Thor’s presence, but he doesn’t look his brother’s way “—to ensure Loki’s compliance. You have no reason for worry.”

Odin makes a rude sound. “A snake strikes when you least expect it.”

After everything, after learning the truth of his lineage and the things he has done, Loki’s heart should be hardened against Odin’s disgust. After all, he wanted Odin to see him as the monster he is. But in that small, deeply buried place, the weak place only Thor can touch, it still hurts.

“He will be on his best behavior,” Thor cuts in, stepping away from the wall. His rumbling voice goes straight to Loki’s groin, inappropriate and distracting. “You know I will never allow harm to come to Mother or any other in Asgard, Father.” The look he shoots Loki says he includes his brother as part of the latter.

Odin frowns, but he doesn’t argue. He nods at Dagmir and waits until he removes the shackles and collar before walking out without sparing another glance for Loki.

The rush of magic flowing back nearly drives Loki to his knees. His fingertips tingle, power arcing between them. Frigga places her hand on his arm to steady him and Loki resists the urge to fall into her embrace.

He meets Thor’s eyes over her head, and Loki knows Thor is remembering their encounter the night before. It had been good, the ghostly sensation of Thor’s hands on his body, Thor’s cock inside him, but not nearly enough. Not as visceral or as satisfying as the real thing, and Loki aches for more.

“She slumbers so we do not scare her or harm her as we work. The magical pathways inside her work much the same as yours,” Frigga says, gesturing to the girl on the examining table. Sinuous lines and symbols dance in the air above her, projections from the table representing the energy currents inside her. She’s just as lovely as Loki remembers from the night before, pale with a frail innocence Loki hasn’t touched in centuries. He wouldn’t blame Thor for—

No. He pushes the thought away and focuses on getting the girl out of Asgard as swiftly as possible. “Push your magic into her and let me see how it works,” he says with a nod to Frigga. 

For the next several hours Frigga and Loki work in tandem. They each direct power through the girl and study her abilities until they finally establish a way to remove the pathways without hurting her. Loki sends a current of energy through her, cauterizing the conduits behind himself. A faint ethereal tug pulls him forward, and he dumps increasingly more power into her until finally… nothing. No drain on his magic, no way for him to push power into her at all. It is as if the pathways had never been there, with no way to reopen them.

He staggers backward, but strong arms close around his waist, keeping him upright. “Easy, Brother.” Thor’s breath tickles his ear, and he lets himself rest against the substantial chest for a moment.

“Excellent,” Frigga exclaims, giving them both a warm smile. Thor releases him and steps away, but the twinkle in her eye reflects how much her knowing gaze sees.

She fiddles with the examining table, directing her handmaidens until she’s finally satisfied. “She will be groggy for some time yet. There is no reason to tax her with a journey through the Bifrost this evening. We will allow her to rest, and you can return her to her home in the morn.”

Sensing they’ve completed their task, Dagmir steps forward with the shackles and Loki instinctively recoils. He now knows the weight of the collar, the emptiness inside without his magic, and he has no wish to repeat it. Power flows to his fingertips as he prepares to defend himself. Thor’s hand closes around his wrist, warm and solid, but Loki could easily shake him off.

“Thor will accompany Loki back downstairs,” Frigga says before he can make matters worse. Thor’s hand tightens on his wrist, and Loki pulls in a breath and holds it, wide eyes finding Thor’s gaze. Frigga treads on unsteady ground with Odin already.

Dagmir’s face goes pale. “My lady, the All-Father will not be pleased.”

Frigga smiles, patting him on the arm. “I will deal with Odin. You are surely needed elsewhere?” She looks past him at the others. “All of you?”

The younger guards, eyes wide, look to Dagmir for guidance. He stares at Frigga for a long moment, then flicks a glance at Thor and Loki. His eyes drop to where Thor holds Loki’s arm and they widen a fraction. He schools his expression, and it’s so fleeting Loki questions whether he saw it at all.

When Loki was still trailing in his brother’s shadow, never satisfied with the scraps of attention, he counted Dagmir as a friend, a brother-in-arms. They were never close, not like Thor was with Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg, or even Sif, but he was a good warrior and a good man. Loki waits, tense, to see what he will do.

“Yes, my Lady,” Dagmir says in a soft voice. “The training yards are short guards this time of day, and these men could use additional drills.” He turns to Loki and Thor with a glimmer in his eye and holds out the shackles and collar. “My lord, you can see the prisoner back to the dungeon?”

Thor takes the restraints, tests their heft in his hand, and nods. “Of course.”

Dagmir gives a short nod to Frigga and leads the others out of the chamber. The handmaidens mill around the examining table awaiting Frigga’s instructions, and Loki feels the weight of several curious gazes.

“You have two hours,” Frigga says, turning away as if she didn’t just hand them the keys to the kingdom.

Loki exchanges a look with Thor, half disbelieving, half worried, and full of hope. Thor releases him and steps to their mother’s side. “Father will be angry,” he murmurs as if the reality of Odin’s fury won’t be catastrophic. “Are you sure?”

Frigga turns to him and cocks her head to the side. “As I said, I will deal with the All-Father. These months have been hard on you both, and your loyalty and service to Asgard should be rewarded.” She looks past him and locks eyes with Loki. “Both of you. Regardless of your missteps, you are still my son, Loki. Still the child I cradled in my arms and whispered lullabies to in the dark of night when you could not sleep under the weight of your own fears. I would see you happy.”

Loki’s chest aches. He never meant to cause Frigga pain, had never really considered what his betrayal would do to her. He steps forward, and she opens her arms, allowing him to bury his face against her neck and breathe in the sweet honeysuckle of her perfume. “I am sorry, Mother,” he whispers into the satin fall of her hair.

She pats his back. “I know, Son. Your father—” She sighs when he stiffens. “He is your father, Loki, though pain obscures the truth in your heart. Forgive him his slights toward you as you have forgiven your brother. He will come around, but you must allow your heart to heal from this grief.”

He pulls back and looks deep into her loving gaze. “I will try, Mother.”

She smiles. “I know you will. Now go,” she says, swatting him toward the door. “I have work to finish here and you are wasting time.”

Moving through the palace unencumbered would attract too much attention, so Thor fastens the manacles around his wrists. Loki shivers when the metal closes around his arms, but it might be more from Thor dragging his thumbs across the sensitive flesh just below his shirt cuffs. He glares at Thor, but Thor just gives him a cocky smirk in return. The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing.

Thor drags his hand across the leather of the collar, and Loki eyes it with distaste, but Thor makes no attempt to put it on him. He hooks it over his arm and gives the shackles a sharp tug so Loki stumbles forward. “Come, prisoner, your cell awaits,” he says with a grin.

Loki’s hands flex and he narrows his eyes. “Your humor leaves much to be desired.”

“We shall see, Brother. We shall see.”

The walk back to the dungeon is much more pleasant with Thor by his side. Thor teases him with sideways glances and a hand on the small of Loki’s back, and Loki considers, and rejects, using his magic to tease Thor in return. The last thing they need is to attract attention before they’re back in his cell.

The barrier around his cell is still open on one side when they arrive, and he steps through in front of Thor. With a flick of Thor’s hand, the energy barrier goes up and the subtle muting of his power settles over them. Every cell has the same dampening that prevents the occupant from using sorcery, but Frigga’s tampering left microscopic conduits in the spell work Loki can exploit.

And exploit them, he does.

With barely a twitch of his hand, he casts a glamour over the cell. In this, the slight distortion of the barrier helps. The power skating over the cell draws the eye away, makes one want to pass by without looking too closely at what is on the other side. Any guard who braves the barrier magic will find a staid scene. Thor and Loki, merely two brothers sharing a meal at the table and talking in low murmurs, their heads bent toward each other.

Loki releases the cuffs with a slender tendril of magic, and they fall to the floor with a clatter.

Thor looks at him with narrowed eyes. “Ever the Trickster,” he says with a sigh. “You should not be able to access your magic here.”

“There are many things I should not be able to do, yet I do them. You, more than anyone, should know that.” Loki runs his hand down Thor’s chest with a grin, deftly flicking at the clasps holding his leather jerkin closed.

One hand comes up to grasp Loki’s as a shudder runs through Thor. “What are you doing? The guards will see.”

“Are you so ashamed of what we do?” Loki asks slyly, stepping away as sourness spreads in his stomach. “Maybe you would find it easier if I looked more appealing.” His magic flickers and his features begin to shift into that of the Midgardian woman.

Thor’s mouth twists into a frown and he grabs Loki before the transformation is complete. “Ashamed? No,” he insists, holding Loki against his chest. A slow roll of his hips presses them together in a way that leaves Loki with no doubt as to the truth of Thor’s words. “Your true form is pleasing to me; I want no other. But I do not wish to give the guards a show. What we do is between us.”

Loki drops the glamour and shifts closer, pressing his body tighter to Thor’s until the thick, unyielding heat of Thor’s cock nudges his hip. It is gratifying to know Loki hasn’t been alone in his wanting. “An illusion, Brother. They will see nothing I do not wish them to see.” He trails his hand farther to cup Thor’s erection. “And I have no desire for them to see this.”

“If you are sure—”

Loki cuts him off with a kiss, hands tangling in Thor’s hair. He angles his head and forces Thor’s mouth open, nipping and biting his lower lip before dipping his tongue inside. Thor groans into Loki’s mouth and lowers his hands to cup Loki’s ass. He uses the leverage to grind their cocks together and Loki’s eyes roll back in his head.

Thor’s inebriating taste coupled with the exquisite friction is enough to make Loki’s knees buckle. The reality of this moment is more valuable than the entire seven months’ worth of magical assignations. How did he ever think he could live without this? Even at the height of his anger, his hurt and pain, a small part of him knew he couldn’t walk away from this. The hold Thor has over him is too great.

“Perhaps we will make it to the bed this time,” Thor says with a teasing grin. The muscles in his shoulders and arms bulge and he lifts Loki easily.

Loki wraps his legs around Thor’s waist, keeping up the shallow undulations of his body as he dives back into the kiss. Thor’s tongue swipes against his before taking over control. He sucks on Loki’s tongue, short, sharp tugs that might as well be directly on Loki’s dick.

“Bed, wall, table, I care not,” Loki huffs against Thor’s mouth as Thor walks toward the bed. “With two hours, we could try all three.”

“Too ambitious for your own good, Brother. As always.”

Thor leans to deposit Loki on the bed, but Loki tightens his legs around Thor’s waist to topple his bulk on top of him. This is what he has needed, what he has missed. Thor’s weight pinning him to the mattress, holding him in place. Though his magic can accomplish many things, there are some for which it remains a poor substitute.

Loki shoves at Thor’s leather armor, hands skating over his back to push ineffectually at the waistband of his trousers. “No great prize has ever come from accepting one’s lot in life,” he murmurs, lips and tongue and teeth grazing across Thor’s jaw. “And as usual, you are wearing too many clothes.”

Chuckling, Thor pulls away just long enough to make them both naked. He comes back to the bed with a warm smile, rolling so Loki is on top, straddling his waist. Thor’s cock brushes Loki’s hole, leaving a wet, sticky trail in its wake. He could shift a few inches, let the head catch on his rim, and take Thor inside himself, magic easing the way after seven months of separation. Loki even craves the pain, the burn of stretching around Thor’s thick cock.

Goosebumps rise on his flesh everywhere Thor touches, hands trailing over Loki’s chest. Lightning licks through him, drawing out a groan, when Thor tweaks both nipples, rolling the buds between his fingers. “Your magic may be powerful, but I can tell,” Thor rumbles as he thrusts up, cock sliding in the cleft of Loki’s ass. “Your skin is warmer, the sounds you make sweeter, your smell more intoxicating than the illusion can imitate.”

A part of Loki—stung by the suggestion that he isn’t as powerful as he thinks—wants to argue, to remind Thor of the times he has been fooled by the illusion. The thought flees when Thor’s strong hands cup his ass and pull him forward. Without preamble, Thor swallows his cock, throat working as his lips brush Loki’s groin.

“Your mouth is hotter as well,” Loki grits, one hand shooting out to steady himself on the bed frame. He rolls his hips, pulling out until Thor’s lips wrap only around the head before pressing back in. Pleasure arcs through him and his back bows as if he’s been struck by a bolt of Thor’s lightning.

Thor pulls back, running his tongue around the head, before grinning up at him. “Take your pleasure,” he murmurs, voice rough from the little they have done, and the sound makes Loki want to  _ destroy  _ him, to own him, use his throat so thoroughly he won’t be able to even moan Loki’s name when he’s finished.

“As you wish, my Lord.” He thrusts back into the wet embrace of Thor’s mouth, pushing until the head lodges in Thor’s throat, the constriction lancing his balls with heat. Tears spring up at the edges of Thor’s eyes, but he doesn’t blink them away. He stares up at Loki, urging him on with blatant hunger in his expression.

Loki pulls out and pushes back in, out again, and back, setting a slow but deep rhythm. He drops one hand to tangle in Thor’s hair, tilting his head for a better angle. With each retreat, Thor takes a gasp of air before curling his tongue around the shaft on the downstroke. His hands grip Loki’s ass, urging him on, and the pleasure spirals until Loki balances on the precipice of falling.

This isn’t the first time he’s lost himself to the warmth of Thor’s mouth, but after their months of separation, Loki wants—nay, craves—more. He shifts back, chuckling at the bereft sound Thor makes when his cock, dripping with saliva and pre-come, slips from his lips. Thor raises his head to follow it, getting in one final lick across the slit before he is too far away to reach.

“Patience, Brother,” Loki murmurs, and he is struck by the irony of his words. As desperate as he was for Thor’s touch last night, this dynamic is more familiar. Thor rushing in, wanting every glory, every sensation, every victory at once, while Loki is content to hold off, to plan for subterfuge and strategic assault. “There are other pleasures I have missed more.”

The words dry up in Loki’s throat before he can reveal himself. Before he admits how much he craves not only the pleasure but the connection he feels when they come together. The Nine Realms believe Thor is theirs: their protector, their warrior, soon to be their king. But none know how truly Thor belongs only to Loki. How in these quiet, stolen moments, Loki owns him so completely. Thor may be the God of Thunder, but Loki wields the storm.

He shifts down Thor’s body, and Thor spreads his legs to cradle Loki between them. Their cocks rub together and they both hiss at the friction. “Fine,” Thor rasps, and another thrill goes through Loki at the way his voice strains. “Take whatever pleasure you will.”

“It is your pleasure I see to as well,” Loki says, snaking a hand between them to stroke Thor’s cock from base to tip. His hand comes away wet, and he preens at how aroused Thor is only from taking Loki into his mouth. He strokes again, hand dragging over Thor’s heavy balls to spread the wetness against his hole. “Or are you telling me you do not crave my cock inside you?”

Thor’s eyes flash and he spreads his legs wider in offering. “You know I do, Loki. Every day. I wish to join with you so closely we will never be parted. So you may never again experience the sting of rejection or resentment that has hardened your heart. I am yours, completely.”

Loki’s throat tightens. Where the pain and betrayal between them has leashed Loki’s words, the past year has loosened Thor’s. Where Thor was brash and careless with his attention, he is now careful with Loki, quick to reassure. It is a shift with which Loki isn’t sure he’s entirely comfortable.

Anguish freezing his silver tongue, Loki doesn’t answer. Instead, he pushes two fingers into Thor’s mouth to stifle the words he both hates and desperately wants to hear. Thor laves his tongue around the digits, soaking them with saliva, and his grin is salacious when Loki pulls them back. He pushes Thor’s legs up farther and presses both fingers to his hole at once. With no warning, he slides them into Thor’s heat, the muscle clenching and parting around them.

Thor wheezes out a gasp strangled on a groan, but he doesn’t shift away. Instead, he cants his hips against Loki’s hand, writhing and panting as Loki stretches him. Loki’s eyes shift from Thor’s face, expression screwed up on the edge between pleasure and pain, and where his fingers thrust into Thor’s body. He adds a third with no additional slick and chuckles darkly when Thor keens. “You will ache from this tomorrow. When you travel to Midgard and your heart is tempted to seek Jane Foster, you will remember the completion of me filling you.”

“Yes, Loki, please,” Thor grinds out through clenched teeth.

Loki pulls his hand away, reveling in the greedy way Thor’s body clings to him. He spits into his hand and rubs the moisture across his aching cock before covering Thor’s body with his own, his cock head pressing against the abused muscle. Sliding forward microscopic lengths at a time, he forces his cock into Thor’s body, the drag intense without slick to ease the way.

He’s barely halfway in when Thor’s entire body clenches around him and his mouth screws up in pain. Loki freezes. As much as Loki wants to mingle the pain with pleasure, to keep Thor balancing right on that edge, he doesn’t want to actually hurt his brother. He’s caused enough damage to Thor’s body and heart to defile this act with it as well.

“Do not stop,” Thor groans, feet coming up to press on Loki’s ass, urging him forward. “Need this.”

Loki sighs. “There is enough pain between us. I would ease a little.” He shifts to reach into the basket under the bed and pulls out a small jar of oil. Easing out, he coats his cock liberally, drizzling a generous portion over Thor’s puffy hole. Thor shivers at the sensation, but he doesn’t protest.

When Loki presses back in, his cock slides past the rim smoothly. Thor moans, throwing his head back, and bows his back as Loki glides inside in one long thrust. As much as he craves using pain to dominate Thor, owning his pleasure is even more powerful.

There is no more need for words—neither pleasant nor damning—and Loki lets himself fall into the base, primal thrill of being buried inside Thor’s body. Thor clings to him, rough grunts and moans, mouth sliding against Loki’s, teeth nipping at Loki’s jaw and neck and finally coming to rest against his shoulder. Loki drives him on, thrusts deep and punishing, a feral satisfaction at the way Thor’s entire body trembles when his cock slides over that spot inside him that makes his eyes flash with power.

Shock waves crash through him, leaving trails of tingling sensation in their wake. Loki considers pulling out and forcing Thor up so he can take him from behind. There’s something sordid in Thor on his knees, body straining as he takes Loki’s cock, that thrills Loki to the core and makes his gratification that much deeper.

But that fantasy will have to wait for round two.

“Close,” Thor whimpers, mouth working against Loki’s shoulder. He reaches between them to strip his cock.

Loki doesn’t bat him away. Instead, he looks along Thor’s body, eyes pinned to the way Thor’s cock head punches through the end of his tight fist with each stroke.

“Let go,” Loki orders, lips pressed to Thor’s ear. He grinds his cock as deep into Thor as he can, holding there as Thor’s body erupts into spasms around him. He leans back onto his heels, pulling out and thrusting again, fucking Thor through his orgasm as long ropes of come splatter Thor’s chest.

The bliss in Thor’s expression—as much as the rhythmic clenching of his body around Loki’s cock—drags Loki closer to the edge. His thrusts lose their precision until he’s rutting into Thor’s body mindlessly, chasing the edge of the abyss. Heat coils in his balls, clenching his stomach, but release remains just out of reach.

“I have you, Brother,” Thor murmurs, reaching one trembling hand up to cup Loki’s face with more gentleness than Loki can bear. “Let go. We have each other.”

There is such tenderness in Thor’s gaze, such love, Loki is powerless to refuse him. He pushes in deep and shudders, a surge of icy pleasure rushing through him, whiting out his vision. Thor continues to stroke his cheek and murmur endearments as Loki shakes apart and empties himself into Thor’s willing body.

As soon as he is able, control of his limbs returning with frustrating slowness, Loki tries to roll away. Too many truths were spoken today for Loki’s comfort, and not all were with words. Allowing himself to be laid bare is not in Loki’s nature.

Thor catches him with one arm and wraps the other around his back, preventing him from separating them. Though his cock is softening, he’s still nestled inside Thor, still connected. “In a moment, Loki. Let me savor you. This will pass soon enough as it is,” he whispers, his voice bleak and aching with sadness.

Vulnerability may not be in Loki’s nature, but Thor has the power to subvert Loki’s temperament as no other. One moment stretches into another and Loki does not move away. Their separation will soon return to being real enough. For now, Loki can allow it to be illusion.


End file.
